Angela had always been fond of children. Being abandoned by her own father, then having her only other parental figure go missing, only compounded her protective instincts. She always vowed that should she ever become a mother, she'd become the best damn mother that the ten realms had ever seen. So, imagine her surprise when she found you, a helpless toddler, abandoned on the battlefield, hidden amongst blood, smoke, and corpses.

Angela had immediately taken you and hidden you away in her manor, keeping you far away from the other angels of Heven. Raising you on her own and keeping you a secret had been difficult, but as she often told you, it was all things she would happily go through again. Then, she met Sera, and with her lover now at her side, raising you only became that much easier.

Now, nearly two entire decades later, you had grown into a fierce young adult. With warrior training from Angela and Sera teaching you sorcery. They were unbelievably proud, often calling you "their Gift." Sera watched from the back porch of the manor while Angela and you sparred. The warrior angel was not giving you any leeway and battered you down until she had you on your back in the dirt. She smiles and helps you back to your feet, dusting off your back.

"Your form is good, my young warrior. However, your tells are obvious."

Sera scoffs as she walks off the back porch and makes her way over to you, checking over your body for any lingering injuries.

"You say that as if you did not raise them. Also, be more careful with our child, Angela."

Angela opens her mouth to retort but stops as Sera shoots her a withering glare. The angelic warrior huffs but nods, mumbling like a dejected child.

"Aye, my love."

Then, just because Angela refused to be cowed without some type of retaliation, she lightly punched you on the arm, earning a glare from Sera.